


All I see is sky

by isa_belle



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: dear evan hansen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 10:58:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18589882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isa_belle/pseuds/isa_belle
Summary: The orchard is beautiful. That’s all I let myself think right now, walking in rather small strides towards a bench in the middle of a clearing in this place that should be cursed to me, because if I allow myself even an absent thought of what I’m walking towards I will probably turn directly around.My version of what happens at the end of Dear Evan Hansen. I’m bad at summaries.





	All I see is sky

    The orchard is beautiful.

    That’s all I let myself think right now, walking in rather small strides towards a bench in the middle of a clearing in this place that should be cursed to me, because if I allow myself even an absent thought of what I’m walking towards I will probably turn directly around. I reach the edge of the the path and almost stop. Zoe is sitting there, strikingly similar to when I last saw her, which, to be fair, was maybe a year ago. Her doodle ridden jeans still cuffed up to what would be way too high for anyone other than herself. She does look older, though. But maybe that’s just me. I suck in a breath and step into the light of the sun poking through the trees as I make my way over to her and don’t think about how awkwardly I walk because now is not the time. I repeat what I’m going to say to her in my head at lest twenty times. Maybe if I rehearse if enough it will actually come out of my mouth right. I close my eyes when I’m nearly to her, pausing to compose myself. I struggle to steady my breathing then decide that now is as good a time as any.

    “Hi.” I state, simply. Zoe jumps up, clearly startled.

    “Oh, hey. Jesus Christ Evan, you scared the shit out of me.”

    “Sorry.” I say and look at my shoes like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. We stand there in awkward silence for a moment. Or, longer then a moment. But it was expected. And after what I did it’s deserved.

    “You know this is the first time I’ve been here?” I say, filling in the quiet with sound because silence is scary and I can’t take the pauses right now. She looks at me, blue-gray eyes sort of shining in the rays of sun.

    “Really?”

    “Yeah-uh. I always drive by it but never go in. I guess... I guess I didn’t think I deserved to.” I bite my lip and plop down on the bench next to Zoe. “It’s really-uh-it’s really pretty.”

    She just nods and there’s another pause where I hold my breath and desperately scan my mind for things to say.

    “I always picture you here with him.” Zoe says, suddenly. “I know that you weren’t- that he wasn’t really your...”

    I nod.

    “But it makes me happy to think that he was happy. And according to my Mom’s ‘How to Deal with the Loss of a Loved One’ book, I need to focus on ‘the joy that he brought me when he was alive.’” She air quotes, several times.

    I breathe. “How-How is your Mom? And your Dad.”

    She sighs, folding her hands and lacing her thin fingers together. My eyes catch on her chipped black nail polish. It looks like her brother’s.  

    “They’re good. Better.” Zoe laughs dryly, “and how fucked up is that? They’re doing better now that he’s gone. And after what you did.”

    That’s heavy. The words hang in the air for a moment, suffocating me.

    She continues, “you saved them, Evan.” I blink. 

    “I didn’t save-“ I take a deep breath and look at Zoe, trying to lock her eyes on mine. “Why didn’t they tell anyone about the letter? Why didn’t _you_ tell anyone?”

    Zoe doesn’t break eye contact and I struggle not to squirm under her gaze. “You’re a good person, Evan. You messed up. Bad. But like I said, you saved them. You didn’t deserve that.”

    I blink about twenty times. She said the words but it’s not like I agree with them. How could I? I’m speaking before I can stop myself. “You know I always wanted to be Connor’s friend when I was-um-when I was younger.” I inhale sharply, “Yeah because he always seemed... cool? I guess that’s the word for it. He just- he was sure of himself. Confident, even. And maybe-maybe he wasn’t at all. But that’s just-that’s just what I saw him as.”

    Zoe laughs softly but it’s genuine and that almost makes me smile. And it feels good. To make someone laugh as myself instead of the person I was to the Murphy’s.

    “And-and-and I always wanted to be that. Confident. Sure about the things I did. I always wanted to not worry about the consequences. Maybe at times that was a fault for Connor, but-um- sixth grade me thought it was the best thing.”          

   “If Connor was anything he was good at faking bravado.”

   “I-I’m sorry. I know-I know that doesn’t make anything right. But-But I just wanted to say it.”

    Zoe looks down at her hands. “I can’t say I’ve forgiven you-“ she starts, and I feel my stomach sink, “-because I don’t think I have. But I’d say we’re- what does Lana call it? Close acquaintances.”

    I laugh. Close acquaintances. I can live with that. There’s another pause but this time it’s not awkward, it’s just... comfortable. I’m not rushing to say anything or stop it, I’m sort of holding onto it like it’s an anchor. Two acquaintances hanging out in a sunny apple orchard. That’s about as normal as it gets for us.

    “Can I ask you something?” She says.

    “Yeah?”

    “You wrote that letter.”

    I hesitate, “y-yeah.” She inhales loudly, shifting on the bench so that she’s facing me.

    “So you felt all of those things.”

    I don’t meet her eyes and my voice almost cracks as I say “yes.”

    Thinking of last year is hard. Not just about the Connor project or the Murphy’s or the emails but about the tree, it’s shaky limbs barely supporting me as I pulled myself to what someplace in my mind thought of as the end. My mom says one day it will all feel like a long time ago. I’m not sure I believe her. _Maybe down the road I’ll be okay,_ I think, _maybe I’ll be okay._

    “Well. If you-if you ever need to talk to someone, about... anything. I’m here. I’m you’re ‘close acquaintance.’ I still care about you.” I let the words sink in.

    “Thanks.” I say breathlessly.

_I think I’ll be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you notice any mistakes or see any reason for me to take it down, just comment.


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